TSW: the Inquisitor Lavellan Story
by xxAristotlexxx
Summary: "There are men who struggle against destiny, and yet achieve only an early grave. There are men who flee destiny, only to have it swallow them whole. And there are men who embrace destiny, and do not show their fear. These are the ones that change the world forever."
1. Chapter 1 - Brothers in Arms

**This shit is weird: The Inquisitor Lavellan Story**

**Chapter 1 – Brothers in Arms **

'_Taarsidath-An Haslaam' _

_Iron Bull_

**9:41 Dragon Age  
Border of Feralden and Orlais  
Frostback Mountains  
Skyhold – Home of the Inquisition**

Skyhold.

A decrepit ruin in the northern half of the Frostback Mountains, days away from the site at which the Elder one revealed himself to the world as a magister who had supposedly entered the seat of the Maker. The first Darkspawn. Servant of Dumat, the most powerful of the old dragon gods of Tevinter.

Now, the ruin was bustling with activity as pilgrims flocked to the new home of the Inquisition whilst workers hammered away atop high scaffoldings, intent on restoring the fortress to its former glory. It was well known now throughout southern Thedas where the Inquisition had fled to after the battle, the evidence of which was the constant flow of refugees and pilgrims a like – All eager to see the Herald of Andraste and give their support to a rising power.

Soldiers stood vigilant atop numerous towers that dotted the walls and the keep, eyes constantly scanning the frozen landscape around the keep. The keep was situated at the top of a mountain and, due to this, had a perfect view of the surrounding landscape for miles around – although any invader would find Skyhold just as easily.

It was among these pilgrims that stood a pair whose fame was well known yet whose faces were not easily recognisable, even without the cowls covering up their most prominent features. One carried a staff with a large red gem at the top whilst the reverse end was made up of a very sharp blade. Even with the cowls wrapped around their heads, one could still easily spot the smear of blood across his face or the pointed ears of the other. Although both were shrouded in travelling cloaks that effectively covered their entire bodies all of the refugees they had been travelling with had heard the audible clink of armour from the human and the occasional chink from the elf.

'Your contact in the Inquisition…' The elf began only to almost immediately cut off by the human.

'He's not -in- the Inquisition,'

'… He said you were needed?'

Only the sound of the wind whipping around the nearby mountains responded, even as they group ascended the steps that led up to the main portcullis of Skyhold; a group of men dressed in the armour of the Inquisition were checking any who entered whilst directing pilgrims and refugees to camps on the slopes of the mountain.

The refugees came to a halt and slowly began to filter out in smaller groups before being directed to different camps. Although it may have at first appeared random, the system of which the soldiers were organising the refugees was quite an ingenious one for men of their position, possibly meaning that they had a competent officer in their midst. Or perhaps their commanding officer was competent enough to give very detailed orders.

'Refugees or pilgrims?'

The pair exchanged a look before the smaller of the two, the elf, gestured to his longbow and quiver, 'Neither. We're here to see Varric Tethras.'

The soldier glanced up, raising his eyebrow for a moment before shrugging, 'The dwarf storyteller? Don't know what business you'd have with him but go on ahead. Keep weapons where we can see them and no magic without cause.' With that last remark directed at the now obviously identified mage, the soldier drew back to allow the pair across the bridge.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Fen Lavellan was having a very… stressful day. He always tried to keep his outward appearance calm and serene as if he was in constant control of his own emotions; a façade that dropped one too many occasions as of late. Inclining his head politely to those he passed, the Dalish couldn't help but let a small shimmer of hope appear in his mind as he watched shemlens actually smile at him, offer him greetings. One even went as far as to buy him a drink at _The Herald's Rest _the previous day!

Even as the shimmer threatened to glow brightly within, it was quickly quelled as a shemlen glanced his way, took one look at his vallaslin and turned away in disgust with a mutter of 'Knife-ears' that quite easily carried over to the Dalish on the winds. Were this a few years previous, then that shemlen would have found himself strung up by his genitals from the palisade of his settlement. Now however he had to act polite and simply ignore it… Even though he suspected Josephine was keeping a closer watch than he on the mutterings of the people.

He passed a rather irate Cassandra and couldn't help but grin as the Seeker shot him a pointed look. "_Keep your grin to yourself Fen_."

Why we he ascending these stairs again… Oh yes; Varric said he had someone who has information on Corypheus that he wanted to bring in. Obviously an informant but why would he need to meet him on the battlements?

With no-one around.

Pushing dangerous scenarios out of his skull, Lavellan reached the top of the stairs, only pausing a moment to enjoy the flutter of a breeze, before walking over towards where Varric stood at the very corner of the tower.

'She's going to kill me…' The durgen'len only half turned when he heard Fen approach and instead added, 'Herald… Or is it Inquisitor now?'

'Still trying to get used to both if I'm honest,'

'Ah well… Perhaps you could be my saviour very soon… I'd like to introduce,' Varric began to turn around and Lavellan mimicked his actions, slightly curious yet slightly annoyed. Why had they been facing the courtyard if they were just going to turn back around anyway?

'… Garrett Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, and his friend...'

"_Hawke… Oh! He was the protagonist of the Tale of the Champion."_

Fen quickly surveyed the shemlen before him with an eye that only a Dalish hunter could possess. Metal armour decorated the shem's body, spikes coming off at the extremities whilst a ring of fur surrounded his collar. Messy black hair and a blood smear were the more prominent features of Hawke but his eyes… _"Green… Like mine." _

Varric had trailed off and didn't seem to be picking up the introductions anytime soon as Lavellan's eyes flickered towards the other figure and, almost like an apprentice being given their first crafting tools, his eyes lit up with delight.

Standing next to one of the most notable heroes of the Dragon Age was perhaps the most famous hero of the Dragon Age; at least among the Dalish. Long, onyx-black hair had been tied back into a pony-tail whilst a pair of dark eyes stared right back at him. Almost like they were staring right into his very soul.

'Falon Mahariel. Hero of Ferelden and Warden-Commander of Feralden.' Hawke finished with a grin taking its usual place on his features.

For a few awkward moments Falon simply stared long and hard at Lavellan before his facial expression changed from wary to friendly and, before he even knew it, the Hero of Ferelden was shaking his hand, 'Aneth ara lethallin. I hope the shemlen have not be too draining on you?'

'I… Andaran Atish'an Grey Warden Mahariel. The shemlen have been most accommodating and I have maintained much of my _revas_.'

Mahariel simply continued shaking his hand for another moment, giving Lavellan a moment to take in the design of his gloves. Despite the fact the general bulk of his attire was the traditional blue and grey of the Wardens, his hands and feet were covered in gloves that didn't quite reach his fingers but covered his palm and boots that only just covered his ankles and the tops of his feet whilst the rest were left for the world to see.

'Oh indeed? I do hope you'll have time to show me around, Inquisitor. I'd be honoured to spend time among one of the Elvhen,'

'Has travelling with Serah Hawke been that taxing on you?'

Even though Varric and Hawke seemed to have zoned into their own conversation, they all paused to listen to the Warden's answer, 'Hawke has been regailing me with tales of his… involvement in Kirkwall,'

'And you didn't tell me a single story of your time as a Warden, Falon!'

'Ahem, if the couple are quite done arguing?'

The Warden, although appearing to Fen to be attempting to retain the air of the Dalish and failing, offered an apologetic smile in return before holding his tongue.

'So Hawke… Corypheus.'

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When the Inquisitor took his position, it was decided that a gong be placed near the War room to signal that the heads of the Inquisition needed to meet at the War Table. Of course, it was a simple yet effective idea that saved the courier another embarrassing moment when she walked in on Commander Cullen changing out of his standard attire.

Two maps were spread across an ancient table with different marks spread across the surface; each represented the location of Inquisition forces whilst little flags were missions that needed to be brought to the Inquisitor's attention. Currently, the Seeker, the Nightingale, the Diplomat and the Commander were spread around the table in their usual positions and waiting patiently. A woman wearing very expensive looking clothing stood to one side, reviewing a document of political importance whilst the Seeker and the Commander discussed the disappearance of the Seekers of Truth; the latter taking a sip from a goblet of water.

'Ma seranas Leliana, Josephine, Cullen and Cassandra – My meeting with Varric's contact ran a little longer than I originally thought.'

Whereas Cassandra was facing the windows, she still caught the tell-tale signs that something was off the moment the door remained open a few seconds longer than normal. Another person?

Josephine's small gasp of surprise and Cullen spraying water all over the map was enough to make the Seeker turn around and witness something that made her faith in the Maker re-enforced whilst simultaneously promising to kill that little bastard when she found him.

Inquisitor Lavellan was walking towards them, his typical air of forced tranquillity replaced by a real one as a Grey Warden strode beside him. Not just any Grey Warden…

'Falon Mahariel…' Cullen's whisper of recognition echoed throughout the room just as the Elf's eyes surveyed those gathered. A smile smoothly found its way onto the Elf's face as he offered a hand to the commander.

'Cullen, I'm glad to see you're still alive and is that Leliana I s-'

The rest of the Warden's sentence was cut short as the aforementioned spymaster practically disappeared from her position at the table, grasped the Warden's arm and dragged him out of the room with almost no resistance.

Only after the door was slammed shut behind them did all of the remaining occupants turn to stare at Fen who, to his own credit, looked slightly embarrassed and fearful as Cassandra levelled her most intimidating glare his way, 'I can explain?'

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Darkspawn? No problem. Tevinter slavers? Bring it on! A High Dragon? Pffft! But being pinned up against the wall by a very pissed off Leliana made the Warden wish he was fighting an army of the aforementioned monsters. It was rather easy to deduce Leliana's irritation even though her expression seemed like your everyday sneer. How? Well, the dagger pressed against his throat of course!

'What was the name of Alistair's sister?'

'Goldanna,'

'Who was my teacher?'

'Marjolaine,'

'What animal did you give to me as a present?'

'A nug,'

'And its name?'

'Schmooples,'

The questions continued ranging from the name of the sword of their Qunari companion to the first words exchanged upon their first greeting. Even then, after five minutes spent with Leliana only pressing the dagger closer to his wind pipe did he ask a question of his own, "What did I tell you in Denerim during the celebration after the end of the Fifth Blight?"

Only then did the pressure that was so close to breaking skin relent however the dagger did not move from his neck, 'You swore never to abandon your _Elvhen._'

'I have come back to honour that oath, _lethallan_.'

For another long moment the two stared into each other's eyes in a way that could never be mistaken for a gaze shared between lovers. It was like the Spymaster's questions had continued through their eyes and, judging from the way her dagger was slowly inching its way away from his throat, the answers were confirming his identity. Then, in a sudden rush, the Warden lunged towards the Spymaster and embraced her in a very tight hug although the reunion was ruined by the soft stinging sensation from his arm…

The dagger clattered to the floor just before the ex-bard embraced her friend back and the two simply stood there in silence for a while, taking it all in even as a soft trickle of blood ran down Mahariel's arm.

'_Ma seranas lethallin_.'

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**9:41 Dragon Age  
Western Ferelden  
North of lake Calenhad  
Crestwood  
**

Crestwood has been in dire need of aid by the time the Inquisitor arrived accompanied by his loyal companions: The Iron Bull, Dorian and Cole. The squad had made their way through masses of demons and undead, single-handedly assaulted a keep filled with bandits and claimed it for the Inquisition. Even after all of that, the Inquisitor refused to rest until the village was safe and so the group found themselves in the ruins of Old Crestwood, fighting off demons and undead before descending into old dwarven ruins.

Only after all that and discovering that the mayor of Crestwood had drowned refugees to stop the spread of the Blight did the group find themselves back at the recently acquired keep. Although the bodies had been removed, the place still put a sour taste on the tongue.

The moment the group had stopped to rest they settled themselves on the steps leading up to the main keep and Bull took it upon himself to strike up conversation, 'Say boss, what's pissed off the Seeker?'

The Inquisitor shouldered his longbow, offering Bull a tired smile as he sat next to him on the steps, 'Tell me, Bull, heard any rumours around Skyhold recently?'

'Everyone talks in the tavern, boss. Whether they intend to let loose or not but when one of the Nightingales comments that the Spymaster seems to be a lot happier recently and that a certain elven visitor is the cause of that… Rumours spread from there,'

Lavellan chuckled lightly just as Dorian wandered over to them, giving both of them a small wave of greeting with his staff, 'Pardon me gentlemen, do go on.'

'Heard anything 'Vint? About the new Elf in Skyhold,'

'My dear Bull, unless you refer to the Grey Warden who arrived recently then I doubt I have any interest,'

'A Warden? How'd you find out that?'

Dorian's expression quickly flickered to one of a rather proud smile, inclining his head in Bull's direction, 'I took a page out of your book. The tower is a great place to read and it is also a great place to hear juicy, fresh information… Especially when the Grand-Enchanter sits nearby and talked to the Warden about all manner of things. Then he drew me into the conversation and it felt rude to refuse…'

'When you eavesdrop, you aren't meant to get involved in the conversation 'Vint,'

'He was so polite, didn't accuse me of wielding blood magic or anything negative when he learned of my Tevinter origins. If anything, he was more than welcome to exchange information… We all shared a pot of tea.'

'Before we are told the life story of Pavus… Boss, how does the Warden link with Red's change in mood?'

'Tell me Bu-'

'Boss…'

'Okay, okay… The Warden who recently arrived didn't come alone. He travelled to Skyhold with the Champion of Kirkwall, the latter only came because Varric sent a message for him to come. A few months ago Cassandra interrogated Varric about Hawke's location but Varric claimed to not know where he was and the Seeker took him for his word,'

'Huh… Don't blame him for lying but… Damn… Is Varric alright?'

'Last time I checked, Hawke's been making a game of trying to direct Varric, with magical barriers, towards Cassandra,'

'How's it been going so far?'

'Varric only manages to escape if a mage is nearby; he has been quite lucky so far.'

They paused in their conversation to devour some of their rations whilst Cole stared absent minded at the pile of corpses in the main courtyard of the keep, 'Yellow eyes like a hawk, staring into my soul, pleading with me not to leave. Duty bound me… I broke free of the bounds.'

'Cole?'

'The Warden. He's full of regrets… Sadness…'

'What do you feel from him?'

'Warm but bitter. Open but closed. Regret of past actions cover his mind like a spiked blanket,' the spirit of compassion paused, turning his eyes on the Inquisitor, 'We can help him. He needs to see her again. To feel her warmth.'

'After we've met with Hawke's contact we'll head back to Skyhold and plan our next step from there,'

'Oh? Any ideas on who we'll be locking horns with next boss?'

"_This'll be good."_

'Not sure yet Bull but I've heard there's a Dragon problem in the Hinterlands.'

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**9:41 Dragon Age  
Border of Feralden and Orlais  
Frostback Mountains  
Skyhold – Home of the Inquisition**

To say the Hero of Feralden was a hero to many would perhaps be an accurate statement. If you wanted to hit the statement dead on the head, then you'd say he was a hero to the Dalish – A show of true Dalish strength; conveniently forgetting the rumoured human partner.

Falon Mahariel stared down at the courtyard of Skyhold from the 'Nightingale's nest', watching as people scurried about, doing their duty and hopefully repairing the fortress. His eyes drifted to a tower next to the _'Warden tower', _near the outermost battlements and currently filled with people making repairs to the masonry.

A tower. That was Ambassador Montilyet doing, _'A tower for the Wardens who join the Inquisition. It seems we'll need it, if Messere Hawke's information is correct.'_

Everything about the 'gift' seemed to convey a deeper, hidden meaning. The position of the tower? The Grey Wardens are the first line of defence against their enemies. The fact it was outside of the main courtyard and seemingly away from the main compound? Grey Wardens enjoy secrecy, a bit too much on occasion. Just behind the barn? Allowed them to make quick departures should a mission arrive requiring immediate aid.

Of course, there was a catch. There would always be a catch when someone gives you something out of the goodness of their heart.


	2. Chapter 2 - Trials 1:1

**Chapter 2 – Trials 1:1**

"_What? Lead? Me? No, no, no. No leading. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere without my pants."_

_Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden_

**9:41 Dragon Age  
Border of Ferelden and Orlais  
Frostback Mountains  
Gherlen's Pass**

'So you're telling me that you've –never- tried to lick a lamppost in winter?'

"_Maker what did I do to deserve this?" _Were the thoughts circulating one Falon Mahariel as he glanced over his shoulder one more time to spy Merrill chatting away with the Iron Bull who was surprisingly tolerant of Merrill's constant comments about the smallest of landmarks or features. It was almost like he had experience travelling with someone like Merrill; small, annoying and always curious. Do not mistake his hostile thoughts for distaste or hatred, Falon had known Merrill for the better part of his life and had gotten used to her ramblings at a young age. He had also gotten used to the Keeper silencing her with a simple comment of _"Don't make me turn this aravel around." _

When Hawke had strode up to join the group the day the Inquisitor announced they were travelling to Halamshiral, no-one questioned the presence of Merrill beside him. No-one was the slightest bit curious as to how he had materialized one of his companions seemingly out of thin air.

Funnily enough those comments never worked during the Fifth Blight whenever two of his own company would bicker. Alistair and Morrigan, Wynne and Morrigan, Leliana and Morrigan… There was always a recurring theme with the bickering and yet he never figured out what it was. _"Probably just the weather." _

'We're approaching the pass the scouts found, Warden. Are you sure about this?' Called Inquisitor Lavellan from the front of the group, wrapped in furs fit for Cullen; long ears poking out of the sides of a snug wool hat and eyes glowing in the dark.

Beside him was Cassandra wearing similar furs but with a resolute expression set on what of her face the company could see; even Bull, striding beside Merrill, was wearing a wool-lined shirt. It was a comedic sight – A hulking figure perfectly outlined striding beside a much smaller figure, waddling along wearing more wool and fur then the rest of them combined.

'I am, Inquisitor!'

"_It has been a while since I have been this way and the last time it had been with a much different company."_

**9:30 Dragon Age  
Border of Ferelden and Orlais  
Frostback Mountains  
Deep Roads**

'Are we there yet?'

"_Creators give me the strength not to strike him down."_

Before Falon could respond to the third moan from his travelling companion that minute, a sharper voice cut in, 'I swear Alistair that if your tongue were your blade we would slay many more of our foes without issue. They would simply keel over to spare you the pleasure of killing them slowly with your blunt wit.'

'Well thank-you! I think. Was that a compliment?'

'I certainly didn't mean it as one.' Morrigan groans, hitting her face with her palm for the sixth time that minute; uttering curses in an ancient tongue.

Alistair smiled all the same, striding forward with a torch held aloft to illuminate the poorly lit passageway. Were it not for the fact that they had been sent down this passage with the promise that the surface was at the end, Falon would have probably killed Alistair by now, stolen the torch and flown down the passage to suck in the rich air of the outside world. _"Oh and Alistair was the one who had been given the minor details to the passageway to avoid unnecessary death. Alistair. They gave the instructions to him of all people."_

Glancing over his shoulder and towards the light of the torch Falon could clearly see the smile on the Warden's face and the look of slowly decaying tolerance on Morrigan's. Beside Morrigan was a woman adorned with sleek, once clean robes of the Circle of Magi; a senior enchanter. Her grey hairs and worry lines displayed the age she didn't seem to carry in her walk and the expression on her face was one of forced tranquillity.

Far away in the distance behind them the Dalish Warden managed to pick out the sight of another lantern being held by the other group; Oghren, a Dwarf who seemed to have grown fond of their company during their travels in the Deep Roads; Zevran, an assassin sent to kill Falon and Alistair but failing miserably; Surian, a City Elf who had been on the run from Denerim after he slew a Human Noble; Alexandra, a human from the Circle who was awaiting the Right of Tranquility when the troubles at the tower started – She was conscripted into the Grey Wardens.

"_I'll never forget the look on Knight-Commander Greagoir's face when we walked out of the tower with Irving and Alexandra in toe. 'You cannot take a Blood Mage from the tower! I demand you release her into my custody this instant.' Were it not for Alistair's calming words and the fact my weapon had been lost fighting Uldred… Never mind. Never mind."_

'Are we there yet?'

'Alistair!'

Contrary to the impending thoughts of murder, it didn't take long for the parties to reach the surface, right onto the side of a large mountain just south of Gherlen's pass. It took a few hours, when the sun was dipping beneath the horizon, for them to regroup with Bodahn and the rest of the party. It took them little time to set up camp and before long the warm atmosphere of the fire and the camaraderie began to relieve the tension formed from the days spent underground. Morrigan was, of course, by herself off to the edges of the camp whilst even Sten was stood by the fire with the others quietly listening to Leliana's song.

The song was one of loss and redemption, sung in the tongue of humans but it did not lessen its beauty. Surian, with eyes constantly shifting from one shem to another, was conversing with Zevran about possible techniques to employ whilst Alexandra was trying to have a conversation about the different kinds of magic with Wynne although the latter seemed to be nodding off.

What was amusing for Falon however was the sight closest to the fire: Alistair was sat awkwardly with his right arm twitching as the human noble, Elissa, smiled playfully at him. It was clear that the two had an interest in one another and Falon privately dreaded the idea of little Alistairs running around all making the same bad jokes as he did but with Cousland's ability to beat the shit out of someone who didn't see something her way; all with a smile on her face.

"_Interesting." _

'You thinkin' bout the lovey-dovey couple, warden?' Remarked Oghren, the durgen'len's eyes falling on the two by the fire even at this distance. Falon glanced at Oghren, a small smile tugging at his lips as they both adjusted their positions on the log furthest away from the camp – keeping watch against would-be intruders.

'I am thinking that Alistair is uncomfortable with the courtship rituals of his people.' Falon replied, the smile disappearing slightly as he watches Alistair tentatively try to slide his arm around Elissa's shoulders only earning a loud mutter of _'Maker's Breath' _from the woman as she slid her arms around him instead. 'And I am thinking that the Cousland is too comfortable with them.'

The durgen'len didn't reply instantly, instead choosing to take a short swig from the beard flask the Warden gave him, 'Enjoying a good rump isn't something to be ashamed off besides the lad needs to lose his virginity and the lass ain't a bad looker. Ancestors, I'd probably try and plough that soil if she wasn't cosying up to-,'

'Thank-you for that pleasant image, Durgen'len. I shall now sleep all the more _soundly_.'

Only a short chortle from the dwarf filled the night air for a moment before they both turned to look back out at the road barely visible through the brush.

'I only hope they find happiness but I would be naïve to say they would,'

'Ain't like you're gonna force the lad into have a tumble with some other lass for the good of the wardens,'

'It isn't that… You weren't here when Alistair gave Elissa the rose and the look of pure joy on her face…'

'Ain't that normal?'

'She hadn't smiled since we left Lothering; that's where we picked her up.'

Unintentionally both pairs of eyes found themselves staring back at the couple by the fire, where one of them had managed to get some embers on his hand and was currently pouting like a child.

'So what's your plan to deal with the Arch…? What's it. Demon?' Oghren asked, leaning forward and forcing his attention away from the party camp.

'I was planning on just… winging it.'

A snort from the dwarf followed by a rough pat on the shoulder marked the end of the conversation and the two assumed their duty for the next few hours, staring out into the darkness and trying to locate any potential threats. Oghren occasionally commented how the look-out's post was sometimes called 'The Deadman's Chair' due to the fact any rogue sneaking into the camp will silence the look-out one way… or another. So Falon was grateful, when the moon dipped behind the mountains, for Oghren to be relieved.

Morrigan assumed the seat Oghren had taken previously, the dwarf waddling off into the camp and collapsing into his tent. Neither the Witch nor the Dalish spoke for a while simply enjoying the silence that had fallen over the camp. Surprisingly it was the Witch who broke the silence, ruffling around one of the pouches at her waist, 'I have something for you,'

'Is it bigger than a breadbox?'

'You are an insufferable man, you know this? No, it is a ring and before you get any foolish ideas of marriage let me explain. Flemeth gave me this ring with the intention of always being able to find me, it is magical in nature you see and would allow her to find me. I have thus far disabled its powers and repurposed so that should you choose to accept it I would be able to find you…' Breaking off, Falon could have sworn he saw a dull blush rising onto Morrigan's cheeks as she shoved the simple band into his fingers, 'Tis not that I wish to track you! But if you were in danger then it would be much simpler to find you…'

Again, she was stopped but this time because of her lips being clamped against Falon's, the Dalish having pressed forward to silence her. Minutes passed and the two didn't seem like they wished to break apart, even as Falon slid the ring onto his ring finger. After breaking the contact both of them took a moment to compose themselves, 'It's a sweet gift, thank-you.'

The sound of heavy breathing caught their attention and both turned quickly to the sight of Sir Barks of Barkington staring at them with his intelligent eyes and tail wagging happily, 'Come then, mongrel. Your company is poor but better you than Alistair.'

'At least he can keep his eyes open for Red Lions, right boy?'

Bark.

'Good boy…'

"_Red lions are some of the most dangerous predators I have ever encountered, not counting that High Dragon guarding the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Were Wynne not with us during that battle, I would have died and Ferelden would have been left at the mercy of Alistair's leadership skills."_

'Morrigan?'

'Hmm?'

'I… Never mind. It's not important,'

'As you wish.'

**9:41 Dragon Age  
Border of Ferelden and Orlais  
Frostback Mountains  
Gherlen's Pass**

'_Eyes gleaming in the dark, amber staring back at you through a curtain of crows. You want to scream, want to cry out to her but she made you swear to remain silent. Golden crown on a head of a dear friend but eyes narrowed in hatred as he stares you down._ He forgave you, you know?'

Guard duty was a torturous affair accompanied by hours of boredom especially when one was kept company by a Spirit of Compassion named Cole who was intent on softening the impact of all the mistakes Falon had made throughout his life. Needless to say the boy proved… odd company. To people who strode past it simply looked like Falon was muttering to himself but in reality a pale boy wearing the largest of hats and baggy clothes sat beside him. The Inquisitor had introduced Cole before they had left Skyhold, alongside all of the man's companions but Cole was one of the most intriguing. Were it not for Solas' disposition of insulting the method in which the Dalish were trying to retain the last vestiges of knowledge from the times of old he might have conversed with him. Instead, he was sat beside a spirit who dove into very mind, read his deepest regrets and said it out loud because he apparently 'needed' him.

Of course he knew who Cole was referring to, it was hard to forget the image of your best friend glaring down at you and you reported the success of the Joining for each of the new Wardens; except Elissa. No, she was now ruling Ferelden beside her king.

Staring up at Alistair and meeting his eyes had been the moment that, were he not convinced to live for another reason, he might have allowed himself to die fighting the Archdemon on top Fort Drakon. Indeed, it took the lives of many soldiers who rushed to aid the Wardens and nearly took the life of Surian Tabris; were it not for Alexandra Amell's use of Blood Magic, there would not be four living Heroes of Ferelden.

'_Eyes slowly losing the light of life before you, the cracking of cobblestone as the dragon's tail swipes another valiant defender out of the way. Blood, seeping from your wounds and the bodies of the soldiers around you, rushed out, a demon dwelling in your thoughts made manifest as your body turns cold. Roars all around as the warmth returns, a worried crow swoops down, steel clattering beside you.'_

'Thank-you Cole,'

'You're always hurting… How can you still smile?'

'Perseverance.'

They lapsed into silence for a while, eyes scanning their dark surroundings whilst trying to ignore the sounds of the camp behind them filled with Inquisition dignitaries, diplomats, spies and soldiers. Sounds of soldiers laughing and mugs being clicked together filled the night air making it much harder to ignore, were Wynne here she'd give them all a good, stern talking to about…'

'_Living on borrowed time, the light of life supported by faith disappears from her eyes and passes to Evangeline; a mage sacrificing herself for a Templar. Wind blowing, the ancient now having the company of the old.' _

'… When?'

'9:40 of the Dragon Age. She's at Andoral's Reach.'

After that, they both fell into a cold silence. A few times it appeared that Cole was about to open his mouth to voice the maelstrom of thoughts in the Warden's head but chose not to; instead, keeping his mouth shut and his eyes on their surroundings. For hours they sat like this, with the Warden-Commander seeming to stare off into nothingness whilst his body was as still as a tree in winter and the snow had begun to melt on the upper most branches. Only when the morning watch cmae to relieve them did the snow stop melting and only then did the Warden slide easily back into the routine.

"_My name is Falon Mahariel, Warden-Commander of Ferelden's Grey Wardens. I have a beautiful partner called Morrigan and a handsome son called Kieran. I am Dalish. My Vallaslin portrays Falon'Din. In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance and in death… Sacrifice."_


End file.
